


Between Wolves and Bears

by Thundercatlola



Series: The Lesser of Two Beasts [1]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Fights, Nobody's written about the Twins yet on here so I took matters into my own hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27721400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thundercatlola/pseuds/Thundercatlola
Summary: A wolf den is no place for two lonely bear cubs to dare raid.
Relationships: Anna | The Huntress/Victor & Charlotte Deshayes | The Twins
Series: The Lesser of Two Beasts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067318
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Between Wolves and Bears

_"Victor, come here."_

Charlotte brushes her matted, dripping bangs aside with one grimy hand, leaving a smear of dirt on her forehead. The soothing pat-pat-pat of the misting rain on the leaves above doesn’t make her forgive how moisture is seeping into the sackcloth of her dress, weighing her down and making her feel itchy.

Her brother growls in protest from where he hunches over a few yards away, face buried in the gouged throat of their latest Mori victim. It was one of the pretty ones- the woman with the caramel-colored skin and curly hair frizzing out around her head. Victor tears another chunk of flesh from the corpse, ignoring his sister’s call.

 _“Now, you little imp! We don’t have much time before the Maîtresse reclaims us.”_ Charlotte hisses in irritation. She flicks her sickle impatiently, scattering a line of crimson beads across the wet grass.

Victor takes his last mouthful and finally scampers over, grumbling as he crawls back into his sister’s chest cavity. She crudely wipes some of the blood from his face with her thumb before setting off towards the ramshackle cabin in the distance, her sullied feet squelching in the mud.

The Twins had hunted in this forest several times before. So many times, in fact, that Charlotte lets muscle memory take hold as she steers between thick redwoods and stomps over unruly sretches of grass and moss in her trek to the dilapidated dwelling. It looks the same as it always does: a two-story, doorless, sturdy log structure with an overhang carpeted with thick clumps of untidy grass and chickweed. The charred smell of something burning wafts from the building, but that doesn’t deter Charlotte from the trinkets she knows lie inside.

Any rat who makes a burrow is a rat that can be skinned- the Deshayes twins know that all too well.

The soft glow of firelight is there to meet the pair when they reach the ruined building, as well as the raw, chalky scents of woodsmoke and charbroiled meat. Charlotte pauses in the lopsided doorway, grip tightening around her sickle. _"You know what to do, Little Brother."_

Victor growls and dislodges from his sister with a wet, sucking _plop_. A numb, heavy tingling is left to fill the scarred void that is Charlotte’s chest as her brother tumbles onto the ground to keep watch for any activity around the house. The older Deshayes strides swiftly into the cabin and wastes no time in her search.

She scours over the house and searches every nook and cranny; the process is painstaking, but slowly Charlotte builds a shiny pile out of the fruits of her labor. Some jewelry, a few colorful garbs, toys for Victor and a clean little handkerchief embroidered with flowers make up the small heap.

She’s just finished stowing everything away in her sack, when Victor’s high, keening screech sounds from back out in the forest near the dwelling.

Rage and panic flares in Charlotte’s stomach all at once. She curses to herself and storms outside as fast as possible, white-knuckling her blade. Dirty, blistered feet carry her out into the dew-coated grass just in time to watch as a small, glinting silver object hurtles out of the darkness and embeds itself square into Victor’s chest.

Both Twins scream at once; Victor in pain, and Charlotte in fury.

Her brother’s body crumbles and dissipates in a mess of sliced flesh and speckled blood, leaving only a crimson-soaked hunting hatchet behind.

A tall, broad woman stalks through the wreathing mist then, a growl rumbling deep in her throat as she stares accusingly at the remaining intruder with black, owl-like eyes. Her face is clad in the head of a hare- or rather, a chipped wooden rabbit mask. She wields a massive broad axe in one hand and a second hatchet in the other, which she raises without hesitation and chucks towards Charlotte.

The older Deshayes twin hits the earth with a seething groan, hearing a dull _thunk_ where the hatchet meets wood- only a few inches above where her head had previously been. Charlotte huffs and snorts like a frenzied bull as she clambers to her feet, glowering at the other female. She can feel Victor knitting back into place within her chest, and his presence fills her with newfound strength. Baying in rage, she unbinds her brother and charges beside him, zig-zagging as she goes to avoid the flying hatchets.

Victor gets to the Huntress first. He lets out a guttural shriek of anger and launches himself at her, eager to sink rotting teeth into her throat.

*

Anna snarls in irritation as the tiny one latches onto her chest, shredding into her skin with festering claws. She elbows Victor away as soon as he starts snapping his ugly maw, stifling a grunt of pain as the brat screeches and scrabbles it’s nails further into her flesh. Before she can pry him off, however, the other thief comes in from Anna's left.

Charlotte is bellowing like a poked grizzly bear; swiping ungracefully at the Huntress with a long, curved blade. It’s rather easy to dive such clumsy blows, even with the runt keening in her ear.

Anna catches the intruder’s sickle on her axe handle and throws her weight against the girl, causing the shorter female to stumble for only a moment- but long enough for the Huntress to land a deep strike on Charlotte's right flank. She howls in pain, clutching at the fresh wound with one filthy hand.

Cloudy grey eyes bug out of scarred cheeks. A crimson flower quickly blooms around her meaty fingers, tinting dirty sackcloth and tarnished fabric burgundy.

That injury is what sets the little creature off.

A guttural shout tears past the Huntress’s lips as sharp, misshapen teeth grind down into the flesh of her throat, gnawing and biting. Blood gurgles up around the gashes like a bubbling spring as Victor nears bone, and Anna wails before slamming a hatchet butt down hard against the brat’s skull. It slumps back a little, head lolling under the force of the blow.

Anna agonizingly sloughs off the gremlin, wrenching long nails and rancid teeth from her grated flesh. She slices her blade into the little devil as soon as his limp body touches the ground, which elicits another furious cry from the older girl. The Huntress smacks Charlotte in the neck with the body of her axe, stepping back and letting the intruder crumple to the forest floor.

She leans over the fallen girl and tears through her sack, seeking any stolen items. When she discovers the loot, Anna snarls protectively and collects the precious items, tucking Mama's jewelry and sashes safely away before gripping the lost toys to her chest. Then, she pauses. The Huntress turns her gaze back down, and slowly glances between the monstrous imp and unconscious thief at her feet, contemplating for a long minute.

They were prey, yes. Thieving prey at that... But they had also proved themselves entertaining prey. And Anna had a rule when it came to her trials, her brawls- the more of a show the meat puts on, the more likely they will be given a chance to escape her domain.

The Huntress clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth in a brief hiss. She stands and slings her axe over one broad shoulder, tilting her head in perplexion as she sees how the abscess of Charlotte's chest cavity is already beginning to build and reform with the moulding body of her terrorizing little twin. 

It was like looking at two bear cubs- one scarred and hulking, the other mangled and rabid- both fallen in the midst of the wolf den for the pack to tear apart.

But soiled meat doesn't truly fill a hungry beast's stomach. Just this once... Anna would let sleeping bears lie.


End file.
